


only fools fall for you

by ObscureReference



Series: (had me feeling like a) ghost [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Backstory, Birthdays, Growing Up, M/M, Multi, Nosebleed, Pining, Prequel, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Burn, Timeskips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 17:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9559640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: By the age of sixteen, Prompto was half in love with his best friend.Chronologically takes place before the other fics in this series





	

**Author's Note:**

> *Sticks leggy up in the air* I don't know how to tag this. 
> 
> Also I'm tired of looking at it, so tell me if you see any mistakes, and I'll do my best to fix them!

By the age of sixteen, Prompto was half in love with his best friend.

He’d known Noctis before they’d been properly introduced, but only on a superficial level. He knew Noctis was the prince. He vaguely took note of the way the media talked about him, their admiration for his volunteer work and the speculation that the prince favored animals. Prompto “knew” Noctis, but he didn’t _know_ Noctis. Not truly. Not until Prompto finally worked up the courage to say something and _really_ got to know him.

By the time Prompto’s birthday had passed, he was nearly head over heels and he didn’t even know it.

The realization came upon him as they were killing time one late afternoon after school. Ignis had phoned ahead to say he was going to be late, and Noctis suggested they at least sit outside.

Prompto hadn’t known Ignis. Not then. But he was starting to know Noctis.

Prompto had been goading Noctis into admitting something embarrassing about himself—just for fun, nothing actually serious—and Noctis had just begun to protest when he interrupted himself to say, “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Prompto said. He hadn’t heard anything, but he trusted that Noct had. Prompto knew himself to be perpetually oblivious.  

Noctis pushed himself off the stairs without answering and knelt by the bushes. He peered underneath the leaves.

“It’s a cat,” he announced.

The loud meow he got in response only confirmed his observation.

 “A cat!” Prompto could barely contain his excitement. He didn’t have the chance to meet many animals. His family didn’t have any pets. He’d had Tiny for a while, but. Well. It had worked out for the best. “Oh, what’s it look like? Is it cute? Is it friendly?”

Noctis shushed him. It wasn’t mean. Prompto shrank back anyway.

There was another meow from the bushes, this time a little quieter.

“Hey there,” Noctis said gently. “You okay, buddy?”

He held out his hand, and the calico cat tentatively tiptoed out of the bushes to sniff at his fingers. Noctis smiled softly, his focus entirely on the cat, and the realization came upon Prompto the same way the tide washed over the shore.

 _Oh,_ he thought. Because suddenly he _knew._ He knew he could fall in love with Noctis. From that smile alone, suddenly he was halfway there.

He could already picture how it would go. Noctis was kind and sweet and gentle. It would have been easy. Like slipping into a favorite shirt. Effortless. He could have fallen headfirst in love with Noctis if he wasn’t careful, if he only let himself.

He didn’t let himself.

Prompto blurted, “My parents are probably waiting for me.”

As though that were even close to the truth. He hadn’t seen them in two days. They would probably be working late tonight as well.

“Huh? Okay.” Noctis looked up, distracted, but Prompto was already hastily waving goodbye and backing away. Within moments he was down the block. All that running really did come in handy.

Prompto felt a little bad, but not _too_ bad. He could see the black car with tinted windows that Noctis always went home in winding its way up the street. Besides, Noctis had the cat. The prince of Lucis was never really alone.

The moment he entered his empty home, Prompto dropped his bag by the door and threw on his jogging clothes. He was out the door in minutes. Soon enough his thoughts changed from _He’s so—_ and _I could—_ and _Maybe—_ to _Tired, Tired, Tired._ By the time he crawled into bed that night, he could barely remember that afternoon.

Of course, he remembered absolutely everything in the morning. But Prompto just skipped out on breakfast and jogged around the block instead, music roaring in his ears. He shoved the thoughts away. And when he got to school, still panting, nearly late, Noctis looked at him and asked if he was okay.

_I—_

He rubbed his wristband.

“Great!” he chirped. “I lost track of time this morning though. Whoops!”

Noctis stared at him a second longer before his face softened the same way it had with the cat. The skin on Prompto’s wrist itched.

“You’re ridiculous,” Noctis said, but he was smiling.

Prompto scrambled for his seat as their teacher walked in. Noctis’ shoulders shook with laughter, and Prompto discreetly threw a paper ball at him when the teacher’s back was turned. Sunlight streamed in through the window, and it fell around Noctis’ head like a halo.

Prompto forced himself to stare at the board.

He easily could have fallen in love with Noctis. But that was only if he let himself.

 

 

 

 

Not thinking about it worked. For a while.

And then there was Ignis.

Prompto had met Ignis before. He had seen him around, corralling Noctis into the car after school or arriving at Noctis’ apartment as Prompto left. The first time they officially met, Prompto had loudly yelled a goodbye from the sidewalk as Noctis slid into the car. Ignis just _looked_ at him. Prompto froze, his hand still mid-wave. He felt like he was being dissected under Ignis’ gaze.

After a moment, Ignis had turned away and got in the driver’s seat. They drove away.

“Okay,” Prompto had said to himself. “Good talk.”

Like Noctis, Prompto knew _of_ Ignis long before they ever really spoke. It was nearing a year into his friendship with Noct before he and Ignis had a real conversation.

Prompto hadn’t been expecting it. Noctis had requested he come over after school, but Prompto had a few errands to run first, so he was a little late arriving. The sun had begun to set by the time he made it to Noctis’ apartment. He hastily knocked and walked in without waiting for a response.

“Sorry I’m late!” Prompto said loudly as he toed off his shoes by the door. “I got caught up—Oh!”

Rather than being greeted by the sight of Noctis sprawled across the living room floor, Prompto saw Ignis by the kitchen sink first instead. His hair was flat and proper as always, and he was cleaning bell peppers, a fine knife in one hand. An apron was tied around his waist. Ignis looked at him with what Prompto could only assume was either disinterest or disapproval.

“Hi,” Prompto said quickly. He finally noticed Noctis sitting on the couch, and his eyes flickered between the two as he spoke. “I didn’t know you’d be here. Noct said—Anyway, I can leave.”

He was already shoving his shoes back on when Ignis said, “No. You can stay.”

Prompto paused.

“I told Noctis to invite you over this evening,” Ignis said. He cleaned his knife under the spray of water from the faucet.

Prompto waited. After a moment of silence, he awkwardly asked, “Why?”

“I believe the prince has made it rather clear that you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” Ignis said. “So I thought it might be worth the effort to get to know each other.”

Prompto was floored. It had never really occurred to him that Noctis might talk about Prompto to other people. He guessed it made sense for the Noctis’ advisor—or whatever Ignis was to him—to know who Noctis spent all his time with, but he still hadn’t expected a real getting-to-know-each-other meeting. He would have appreciated a little warning. And Noctis had “made it rather clear” that Prompto wasn’t going anywhere? What did that mean?

He stole a glance in Noctis’ direction and found the prince looking entirely unaffected by their exchange. In fact, he had his head buried in a comic book. Nervous, Prompto looked back and found Ignis waiting for a response.

“Uh, sure!” Prompto said, a little belatedly. “That makes sense.”

Ignis nodded like this was the proper response. He went back to cleaning the peppers. After almost a full minute of uncomfortably standing by the front door, Noctis finally gestured for him to sit down. The look on his face said he couldn’t believe Prompto hadn’t made it to the couch already. Prompto gratefully sat.

Ignis was still _right there_ , so everything felt different and weird, but it felt a little less weird when Noctis put his feet in Prompto’s lap and said, “Relax.”

“I’m totally relaxed,” Prompto said. “I’m the most relaxed. _You_ relax.”

Noctis rolled his eyes and threw a comic at Prompto. For a moment it felt normal. Ignis’ moving around in the kitchen became background noise.

Eventually, Noctis put the comic book aside. Prompto looked at him. Noctis’ eyes were closed, and his head was resting on the arm of the couch like he was ready to use it as a pillow. It was still early enough that Noctis would only wake up in the middle of the night if he fell asleep now. Prompto poked his foot and watched Noctis’ toes curl.

“You should help me with my math later,” Noctis mumbled.

“Sure,” Prompto said breezily. “If you help me with history.”

“History is easy.”

“History is _boring_.” He poked Noctis’ foot again and smiled at the way Noctis’ mouth twisted. “Your feet are freezing.”

Noctis groaned. “Then warm them up.”

“What am I, your servant?” But he laid his arms over Noctis’ feet anyway. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. “What do you need help with?”

“Formulas.”

Prompto gaped. “That’s the easiest part!”

“Formulas suck.”

“They’re not _that_ bad,” Prompto said, even though they did suck. “We’ve had worse.”

Noctis grunted, and Prompto chuckled. That was when he noticed Ignis standing there with a tray in his hand.

“Dinner is served,” Ignis said. He turned his back on them to place the tray on the dining table.

Noctis rolled off the couch and onto his feet. Prompto wordlessly shuffled to the table, the awkwardness rushing back.

Prompto and Noctis were both sixteen. Noctis had once said Ignis was only two years older than them, but it felt like so much more. Ignis carried himself with a posture and dignity Prompto didn’t think he’d ever reach.

“Prompto,” Ignis said abruptly the moment they were all seated. “What are your plans for after graduation?”

Prompto choked. He would have prepared a whole paper of things to say if he had known this was going to be an interrogation.

Thankfully, Noctis came to the rescue.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?” he asked, picking the meat out of his pepper with his fork. Prompto wasn’t sure if he meant it was early in the evening or early in their high school career, but he was grateful for the moment he had to think anyway.

Ignis looked like he was about to speak, but Prompto beat him to the punch. “It’s fine. I, uh, was thinking about engineering? Maybe? I don’t have the details worked out yet, but, you know. I have some time.” He searched for something else to say, some detail he could add that could prove to Ignis that he was planning on becoming a productive member of society. “I like photography a lot? But who knows if I can do anything with that.”

 _Smooth_ , he thought. He shoved a forkful of stuffed pepper into his mouth to keep from saying anything else. The taste caught him off guard, however, and he ended up blurting, “Wow, this is great!’

“Thank you,” Ignis said as Prompto flushed. “It’s made with—“

And then he listed off a bunch of ingredients Prompto didn’t catch. There were words like “cheese” and “meat” in there, but they were all preceded by really fancy foreign words that made Prompto assume a lot of the ingredients were imported. Or at least bought at a really upscale market. Prompto bought most of his dinners from the convenience store.

“You’re a great cook,” he said when Ignis had finished. He had already eaten half the food on his plate in the time it had taken Ignis to stop explaining. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for him outside of a diner. “Thanks!”

Noctis had finally finished separating the meat from the vegetable and took a bite. He nodded in agreement.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. “I often cook dinner for His Highness and myself. It was no trouble to add a third person.”

Prompto didn’t know how many times he could say thanks before it became redundant. He shoveled another forkful of pepper into his mouth. Ignis watched Noctis eat, maybe observing his refusal to eat the pepper or possibly waiting for some other comment. When nothing came, he got to work on his own meal. It was impossible to gauge anything from Ignis’ face.

Noctis nudged Prompto’s foot under the table. Prompto glanced at him, unsure of what he was supposed to take from that. Noctis looked at his food like he wasn’t prodding Prompto with his bare toes.

“So, Ignis,” Prompto said after the silence got to be too much. “How was your day?”

It was such a generic question, but Ignis answered promptly anyway. “Fine, thank you. I got a lot accomplished. And yourself?”

It suddenly hit Prompto that Ignis was really, truly trying to make an effort to know him, trying to make a good impression on Noctis’ friends. Well, friend _._ Period. Noctis had probably known that too.

For some reason, Prompto suddenly felt guilty. Probably because he’d been acting weird all evening when Ignis was trying so hard.

“Good,” he said. “Good day.” And then, unthinkingly and too aware of Noctis’ silence, he added, “Noctis has been volunteering at an animal shelter, so it’s been fun to hang out there after school. The people all love him there. The cats and dogs too. I help sometimes.”

He would have thought Ignis knew that already, but he perked up like this was new information. Prompto guessed he knew about it but didn’t hear too many personal details. “Is that so?”

Noctis didn’t say anything. Prompto kicked him under the table. Noctis glared at him but said to Ignis, “It’s not a big deal.”

“I see,” Ignis said, nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Noctis grunted.

Ignis wasn’t a bad guy, and he wasn’t so intimidating when he looked so satisfied at even learning that tiny tidbit about Noctis’ school life. Prompto thought about how quiet Noctis could be and how reluctant he was to speak sometimes. He thought about how hushed it was when Ignis wasn’t asking Prompto a question.

Ignis wasn’t _that_ scary. He was just a guy trying his best.

Of course, Ignis was still way more dignified and cool than Prompto thought he ever could be. But the small, content smile Ignis wore because of Noctis made Prompto relax.

They got through dinner. It was still somewhat uncomfortable, still a little stiff in places, but Prompto barreled forward. He was sure he was embarrassing himself, but Noctis stopped frowning, and he thought Ignis loosened up as well, so. Mission accomplished. Eventually Ignis pulled out a large file full of political stuff for Noctis to learn—stuff Prompto couldn’t wrap his head around—so he left then, promising Noctis that they’d work on the homework before school tomorrow.

The next time Prompto found Ignis in Noctis’ apartment, he made an effort not to be so awkward.

“There was a sale at the fish market today,” Ignis casually mentioned as he seasoned the meat.

Prompto laid his head in his arms, his cheek close enough to the counter that he could feel the coolness of it. “Yeah?”

Ignis nodded. “I went to see what was the catch.”

Somewhere in the background, Noctis snorted at Ignis’ lame pun. Prompto hadn’t expected Ignis to be the type to enjoy puns, so it took him an extra moment to understand what had happened. When it clicked, Prompto laughed so loudly that Noctis actually looked up.

“Did you actually find that funny?” Noctis said, disbelieving.

“What’s wrong, Noct?” Prompto said. “Aren’t you _eeling_ the humor?”

Noctis groaned, long and loud.

Prompto shrugged and glanced at Ignis. He could have sworn the corner of Ignis’ mouth twitched upwards in a smile, but when he blinked it was gone.

“Moray for us,” Ignis said.

Prompto grinned.

Later, when Ignis had left and Prompto was loading a game of King’s Knight on his phone, his stomach pleasantly full, Noctis caught his attention.

“Do you like him or something?” Noctis asked. There was something about his tone Prompto couldn’t place.

“What? No!”

Noctis stared at him a moment longer. Prompto didn’t know if he was satisfied with Prompto’s answer or not, but he eventually turned back to his phone. For some reason, Prompto had tensed, and it was only minutes later, engrossed in their game, that he began to relax.

Sure, Prompto thought Ignis was cute. He had to admit the puns had a certain charm to them, but he wasn’t sure it was in full crush territory yet.

(Yet.)

But then he thought about it.

He couldn’t like Noctis. Noctis was his best friend. They saw each other every day. There was no doubt it would ruin their friendship if Prompto ever admitted how Noctis’ smile made butterflies explode in his stomach.

Ignis was unobtainable too, but in a different way. He was older, cooler, more adult. Prompto only saw him every now and again. He was easy to avoid if Prompto didn’t want to see him. If he had to choose who to direct his romantic fantasies towards, it was clear who was the better option.

Prompto had fallen slowly in love with Noctis, unaware of what was happening before it was almost too late. Even now he had to stop himself from accepting every time Noctis offered to let him sleep over or leaned in too close for fear Prompto would do something he would later regret.

But Ignis—

He wasn’t less or worse or better than Noct. He was different. But he was just as appealing. Now that he knew what to look for, Prompto knew what could happen if he allowed it.

He allowed it.

 

 

 

 

Prompto’s first meeting with Gladio was much more brief that his meeting with Ignis. It also hadn’t gone much better. One moment he and Noctis were goofing around, and the next there was Gladio, sporting a hoodie and a fresh scar over his eye. He’d gotten hit by a beer bottle some drunk guy had thrown at Noctis earlier in the week. Noctis had confessed the event to Prompto that same night it occurred, a little shaken though trying not to show it. Prompto looked at Gladio in awe.

Gladio looked him up and down for a brief moment before turning to Noctis. “He’s scrawny.”

Prompto sputtered.

Noctis shrugged. “So?”

Gladio grinned, all teeth, like he knew exactly how intimidating he was. He clapped Noctis on the back.

“Don’t be late today,” he said before walking off, completely ignoring Prompto.

That had been that. But the next time he saw Gladio, he’d thrown his arm over Prompto’s shoulders and asked if he was keeping Noctis out of trouble at school.

“I’m not a delinquent,” Noctis grumbled.

“Sure,” Gladio said, even though they all knew what a good kid Noct was. “You tell yourself that.”

Noctis said something else, but Prompto didn’t hear because Gladio was chuckling, a low, gorgeous sound, and when he dipped his head, his stubble brushed Prompto’s forehead, leaving his skin tingling in its wake.

 _Oh no_ , Prompto thought. Because Gladio was Noctis’ friend and bodyguard, and developing a crush was a bad idea. Gladio was better looking than most people Prompto knew, and he could feel his heart sinking even as he admired the curve of Gladio’s throat in the sunlight.

Noctis waved his hand. “Hey, you there?”

Prompto jumped.

“Yeah!” he said, too loudly. “Sorry, I zoned for a second there.”

“Tell me about it,” Noctis said. He was staring at Prompto, at the space where Gladio’s arm laid across Prompto’s shoulders, and frowning. His eyes flickered to Gladio’s face. “Did you want something?”

That was unusually gruff, even for Noctis on a bad day. Prompto shifted.

Gladio shrugged, pulling away. “Just checking up. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“See you,” Noctis said. He watched Gladio go while Prompto pulled himself together. When Gladio was gone, Noctis pulled Prompto back to his apartment, and they avoided homework for hours until Ignis showed up with all the royal work Noct had to do. Then Prompto shuffled home.

The third time they met, Gladio was drenched in sweat from a workout, and his shirt was clinging to his skin. Prompto felt all the blood rush to his face. He officially had a crush on three different men.

 _Well_ , he thought humorlessly. _Third time’s the charm._

 

 

 

 

At seventeen, Prompto was pretty comfortable with his jogging routine.

It was early morning on Sunday when his alarm went off, and he felt surprisingly good when he rolled out of bed. It was early winter, and the air had a bitter chill when he stepped outside that morning, but even that didn’t damper his mood. He didn’t mind jogging in the cold.

Prompto passed his normal mile marker and kept going. He felt energized that morning, not nearly as tired as he normally did by this point, and he idly wondered if he was going to set a new record for himself. The thought made him smile. The sun was barely up, and the streets were empty. For once he didn’t mind being so alone. His heart beat to the rhythm of the music in his ears. He kept running.

He had just begun to tire when something wet and warm trickled over his upper lip. Prompto wiped it away without thinking. His hand came back bloody.

His nose was bleeding.

Prompto slowed to a stop.

Blood dripped from his nose to the sidewalk as he bent over, panting, his hands on his knees. He’d been too focused to notice before, but now that he’d stopped he could feel how clogged his nose felt, how the back of his throat burned with more than just the need for air.

He’d had plenty of nosebleeds before, so he didn’t panic. He was sometime prone to them, and the dry air didn’t help at all. A nosebleed was to be expected, and this was a good enough time to catch his breath as any.

He didn’t have anything to wipe away the blood besides his shirt, and he didn’t want to risk staining his clothes—blood took forever to remove—so Prompto pinched the bridge of his nose. He was in the middle of debating the merits of finding some free napkins versus just going home when he spotted a familiar face and realized just how close to the Citadel grounds he had come. He really _had_ gone out of his way that day.  

“Morning!” Prompto waved.

It was almost a surprise when he got Gladio’s attention, despite the fact they were alone on the street. Gladio was jogging on the other side of the road, and Prompto didn’t expect him to stop, but he took one look Prompto’s way and instantly changed direction, a strained look on his face.

He had thought Gladio just wanted to say hello, but when he got close enough, the first words out of Gladio’s mouth were a tense, “What the hell happened to you?”

“What?” Prompto said, not getting it at first.

Gladio tilted his chin up to get a better look, ignoring Prompto’s grunt of protest. “Who did this?”

It took another moment to make the connection. By that time Gladio had already pulled out a handkerchief of his own and had wiped Prompto’s mouth. The cloth came back red. Gladio’s eyes swept over his face.

 _Whoops,_ Prompto thought. His face was apparently messier than he had thought.

Gladio looked pissed. Like, _really_ pissed. Prompto hoped that anger wasn’t going to be redirected at him in the next few moments.

“You know this is just a nosebleed, right?” Prompto said. “From the cold air?”

“A nosebleed?” Gladio repeated, looking unconvinced. He held the cloth right under Prompto’s nose, and Prompto took over holding it there with his free hand. The brush of Gladio’s skin against his own felt nice in the chilly air. Gladio practically radiated heat.

“Yeah, I get those sometimes,” Prompto said. He keep the handkerchief balled up under his nose and away from his mouth. “Did you think somebody jumped me or something?”

He smiled, attempting to lighten the mood, but Gladio just wordlessly stared at him. Prompto wilted under his gaze.

As if realizing he no longer had to be in defense mode, Gladio’s shoulders dropped and the tense look on his face melted into something more normal. He finally blinked.

“Be more careful next time,” he said gruffly. He was still standing in Prompto’s space like he expected someone to jump out and actually break Prompto’s nose.

“I am,” Prompto whined. “It’s not like I can control them. It’s cold out.”

“Buy a humidifier.”

“To use while I run?”

Gladio smiled, amused. “If that’s what you have to do.”

Prompto chuckled, and when it didn’t look like Gladio was going to take his handkerchief back anytime soon, he waited for the big guy to leave. He didn’t.

“Oh, I can wash this when I get back home,” Prompto said after a beat too long, gesturing to the handkerchief. “Sorry I got it all gross.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gladio said. He still didn’t look ready to leave.

Prompto blinked. “Don’t you have more jogging to do?”

He belatedly realized how rude that sounded, but Gladio didn’t look offended.

Gladio shook his head. “You’re done for the day.” That was true, but Prompto thought Gladio’s statement had more to do with his minor nosebleed rather than the fact Prompto was genuinely at the end of his run. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

“That’s pretty far, dude,” Prompto said. A couple miles at least.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gladio said. Prompto could feel the heat from his body. “Let’s go before you freeze to death too.”

Now that Gladio mentioned it, it w _as_ pretty cold out. Much colder now that he had stopped running and his sweat had time to dry. He shivered, and Gladio threw an arm around him.

 _Don’t_ , Prompto thought. Because Gladio was thoughtful and nice, and he’d been so concerned when he thought Prompto was hurt. And all of that just made Prompto’s heart want to jump out of his chest when Gladio pulled him close, sharing his warmth.

He didn’t want encouragement. He wanted Gladio to shrug and go on his merry way without getting Prompto’s hopes up. Two crushes were already two too many.

(Two crushes he was _allowed_ to have. Prompto was still desperately hoping to smother his crush on Noctis. So far it hadn’t worked.)

Gladio didn’t seem to get the memo. His arm settled over Prompto’s shoulders heavily, and Prompto resigned himself to apparently pining after every attractive man he’d ever met.

“Come on,” Gladio said, his voice gruff but kind. Prompto didn’t have it in him to pull away.

They walked, sometimes chatting and sometimes letting the silence comfortably settle over them. Prompto’s nose had stopped bleeding within minutes. He shoved the bloody handkerchief into his pocket to be washed later.

When Gladio got to Prompto’s doorstep, he eyed the lack of cars in the driveway. “Where are your parents?”

“Work, probably,” Prompto said, but he actually wasn’t sure. Didn’t they have Sundays off? Maybe not. They weren’t around enough for him to have memorized their schedule. When in doubt, he always assumed they were gone.

Gladio made some kind of grunt at that, but Prompto didn’t know what to make of it. He said goodbye and went inside.

Later, when Prompto popped into Noct’s place to say hello and pretend to do homework, there was a humidifier running by the couch.

Prompto looked at it. Noctis didn’t say anything, though he must have noticed the way Prompto hesitated when he saw it. Noctis pulled out his homework instead. Prompto unconsciously wiped the skin under his nose to make sure there wasn’t any blood lingering there, though he had stopped bleeding hours ago. There wasn’t.

He left just as Ignis arrived with a thick stack of work for Noctis to do. When they passed each other on the stairs, Ignis pointedly asked how much water Prompto had been drinking that day. Prompto ducked his head, embarrassed, and gave a number he hoped would make Ignis happy. He hurried back home so he wasn’t stuck out in the cold any longer than necessary.

He hadn’t known Gladio was such a gossip.

 

 

 

 

“Eat this,” Noctis said.

Sometimes Noctis made Prompto eat fancy foods he didn’t know the names of. At least, names Prompto usually didn’t know. Noctis had grown up around this stuff.

“What is it?” Prompto asked.

Noctis held out his spoon. “Just eat it.”

That was part of the game. Noctis wouldn’t tell him what is was, but he demanded Prompto eat it anyway. If it was food Noctis would also eat, then it was never anything too weird. But sometimes Ignis snuck in vegetables or other foods into Noctis’ lunch, hoping to expand the prince’s diet. It had never worked. Noctis either threw it out or had Prompto eat it instead.

Usually Prompto found their back and forth pretty fun. He got new food out of it too.

“Didn’t you already eat off that?” Prompto said, eyeing the spoon.

“So?”

The one problem with the game was that Noctis tended to offer everything using his own utensils. So every time Prompto ate something Noctis offered, it was like an indirect kiss. Usually that meant Prompto ate the food anyway while trying not to think of how their exchange was both unhygienic and achingly domestic. Such thoughts weren’t healthy for anyone.

Prompto leaned over, and Noctis fed him the white stuff on the end of his spoon.

“Tastes like mint,” Prompto said after he swallowed. Not bad, though he didn’t love it. “It’s pudding?”

“Something like it,” Noctis said.

“Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I wanted you to try it.”

As picky as Noctis was, he liked watching Prompto eat new foods. Probably because Prompto overexaggerated his claims of poison whenever Noctis gave him something bad. Thankfully, it was rarely ever bad.

“Do you want the rest?” Noctis offered.

Prompto shook his head. “No thanks. You keep it.”

Noctis shrugged and scooped a spoonful of the pudding into his own mouth. He grimaced around the spoon as the flavor hit him. Prompto had no idea why Noctis had eaten it if he didn’t like mint. He laughed at Noctis’ face. Noctis flicked him in the shoulder. Prompto laughed harder.

 

 

 

 

Noctis shuffled off towards the bathroom. Prompto laid down in the space he left unoccupied, his arm hanging off the edge of the couch.

“Can I help with anything?” he offered.

Ignis didn’t look up from the meal he was preparing. “I believe I’m nearly finished, thank you.”

Prompto didn’t eat over _every_ night. But sometimes he did. Often enough that he was comfortable laying down like this, watching Ignis in his element. He was very graceful, Prompto thought. A lock of hair had fallen slightly out of place on Ignis’ forehead, and he wanted to be the one to push it back.

Prompto had first encouraged his crush on Ignis as a distraction from his other fruitless romantic ventures, but at this point it had spiraled into something that easily rivaled from his feelings towards Noctis and Gladio. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel this way towards three people at once, but he knew now that thinking he could keep himself in check around Ignis had been a mistake. Just because he wasn’t around as much as Noctis didn’t mean Prompto felt any differently. He’d learned that the hard way about Gladio as well.

Noctis was so close _all the time_ , and it was near torture to keep him a reasonable distance so Prompto wouldn’t do anything he’d regret. Ignis, on the other hand, was around just often enough to be tantalizing and also gone often enough that Prompto would have done anything to bring him closer.

And then there was Gladio, who Prompto saw just enough to keep the flame in his heart burning brightly. Prompto didn’t have the excuse to see Gladio the way he could text Noctis anytime or pretend he’d just happened to show up when Ignis was visiting. Gladio was missing the most, but Prompto thought about him just as much as he did the other two.

He was starting to think there was no good way to balance distance when it came to romance.

Yeah. He’d really bitten off more than he could chew this time.

Noctis came back from the bathroom. He shoved at Prompto’s shoulder.

“Move over.”

Prompto stuck out his tongue. “Make me.”

Noctis pulled at his arm, and Prompto resisted. Noctis pulled him partway off the couch. Prompto took the cushions with him. There was a lot of grumbling between them both.

Out of the corner of his eye, Prompto swore he saw Ignis smile. 

 

 

 

 

“How old are you anyway?” Gladio asked.

Prompto took a large gulp from his water bottle. He was sweaty as hell, and he was sure he looked like garbage. More so than usual, anyway.

“Almost eighteen,” he panted, unsure why he didn’t just say seventeen instead. Maybe because Gladio was twenty, and Prompto felt childish in comparison.

Gladio nodded like this was significant. Prompto wasn’t sure it was.

“And when do you turn eighteen?” Gladio said, clearly catching on to the _‘almost_ ’ part.

Prompto flushed, though he wasn’t sure his face could get any redder. Gladio raised an eyebrow.

Prompto looked away. “…In October.”

“In six months?” Gladio laughed. Prompto felt his laughter like lead in his stomach. “You call that _almost_?”

Prompto ducked his head and mentally begged for their break to be over. This jogging competition Gladio had proposed was torture. There was no way he was going to win.

He chased after Gladio anyway.

 

 

 

 

The four of them weren’t often in the same place at the same time, but Prompto once leaned over the edge of Noctis’ balcony and caught an eyeful of Ignis and Gladio whispering covertly to each other below.

They weren’t doing anything wrong. They were just talking, but there was something about the way their bodies were angled, the way they were close enough to be practically breathing the same air that made Prompto feel dirty. He quickly ducked back inside to give them their space, and he challenged Noctis to a quick round of King’s Knight as a distraction.

Ignis was gone when Prompto finally left, but Gladio was slouched against the building looking smug. Prompto didn’t know what to make of it.

 

 

 

 

Loving Noctis was like waking up in the morning. Natural. There were late text night conversations and so much laugher it brought tears to their eyes. Prompto didn’t have any expectations for himself, and he tried to make it clear he didn’t have any for Noct either. There were junk food wrappers and afternoons spent sprawled in the sun. Noct’s hand tangled in his hair. Prompto secretly uploading pop songs to Noctis’ phone. They avoided homework. No pressure. Just being.

Loving Ignis was softer, slower, an undercurrent of emotion always in the background of their silences. Days and sometimes weeks passed before Prompto happened to see him again, and yet before bed he always caught himself thinking _‘Maybe I’ll see him tomorrow,’_ even on days he knew that wouldn’t be true. A joke pulled out of left field, a reminder that Prompto could bring the leftovers home if he wanted. Casual checkups when he’s feeling sick. Kindness. Concern.

Loving Gladio was more of a rush. Perpetual motion, running, go, go, go, but remember to breathe. A reminder to look out for each other. Family matters. The prince always coming first, of course, but Prompto’s grateful just to be a backdrop. The same concern sometimes directed at him. Tongue-tied, dizzy, a hand on his back. _You’ll be fine._ Salty cups of noodles. Bumping shoulders. _Work harder, get better._ Feeling good about himself for once.

They—all three of them—really were something else altogether.

 

 

 

 

His face was so close. Prompto’s breath caught.

Noctis didn’t say anything, but his gaze was intense and he didn’t look away. When he breathed out, he was close enough that the fabric of his shirt caught against Prompto’s.

They had been wrestling, joking over something stupid, and Prompto had let himself go. Just for a moment. And now—

Prompto swallowed. “Noct.”

Noctis looked at him. His eyelashes were long and dark. Prompto wanted to count them all. Noctis’ fingers were splayed against the wooden floor on either side of his head, and Prompto could picture the way they looked, slender and elegant, without even glancing at them.

A key jiggled in a lock, and maybe Prompto had been imagining the way Noctis’ face had closed in on his own, but he scrambled out from under the prince anyway. His back hit the couch, and Noctis leaned back on his elbows, twisted around but still firmly sitting on the floor.

Ignis opened the door. He paused, staring at them both. Prompto wondered what he saw.

“See ya,” Prompto said hastily. He barely spared the extra seconds it took to shove his shoes back on. He brushed past Ignis and forget his backpack in his haste.

He didn’t know what to make of it. He chalked it all up to wishful thinking and tried not to acknowledge his slipup.

Prompto had no idea what Ignis and Noctis talked about after he left. But he noticed the way they acted a little differently around each other after that. Like there was something new in the air. Prompto couldn’t say what it was for sure, though all those times he caught Noctis jumping away from Ignis when Prompto walked in or caught Ignis caressing Noctis’ cheek when the prince was worried and trying not to show it came to mind. He was too busy making it a point to put distance between himself and Noctis to name what it was.

Somewhere in the background of his anxiety, Prompto’s heart ached at the thought of the two of them together. It shouldn’t have. He didn’t know if he was projecting or not, and anyway, they would have been good for each other. Much better than anything Prompto could offer either of them.

If Gladio wondered why Prompto begged him to go running more often after that, he didn’t comment on it.

 

 

 

 

He’d purposely separated himself from Noctis for the past week when he got a message from Ignis. That almost never happened.

 _I’m afraid I’m going to be late this evening,_ the text said. _Would you mind picking these ingredients up at the store? You will be properly refunded, of course._

That was Ignis, prim and proper even in writing. Below the text were a list of ingredients to buy. Prompto recognized most of them, and the few he didn’t he figured he could find one way or another.

 _On it_ , he texted back, trying to ignore the weird anchor feeling in his chest. He’d done shopping for Ignis before. He could do it again.

Prompto bought the ingredients even though it took longer than he wanted it to. By the time he arrived to Noctis’ place, Ignis was already there. Prompto felt the guilt of not being fast enough sink in his stomach. He shook it off.

“Thank you,” Ignis said. Their fingers brushed as Ignis took the bag. Prompto nearly swallowed his tongue. A breeze brushed past Prompto and into the apartment.

Ignis looked at him expectantly. “Are you coming in?”

Of course he was. Prompto had never been good at self-control.

Noctis flopped on top of him as he sat down. Prompto tensed at first, unsure of what to expect, but nothing happened besides Noctis burying his face in Prompto’s hip. Slowly, Prompto relaxed.

“You need to clean up more often,” Ignis said even as he moved the garbage on the counter into the trash.

 

 

 

 

Prompto didn’t spend his real eighteenth birthday with anyone. His parents were busy, and Noctis had something else going on at the castle that day. It was admittedly a little lonely to be stuck in his house by himself, no urgent homework clawing at his attention and nowhere to particularly go, but Prompto made it work.

His phone buzzed with an early morning _Happy Birthday_ text from Ignis. He texted back a thanks. It reminded him to clean his room after he showered. He wandered aimlessly around town that day and took pictures of trees and dogs that caught his attention. The time passed agonizingly slowly. Noctis had promised him repeatedly that they would spent the next day together, but the waiting was still hard.

On Monday, after school was finished, Noctis took him up to the school roof and handed him a box. It was a little heavy.

“What is it?” Prompto asked, too ecstatic not to smile. Noctis could have given him dirt and he’d still probably be excited. “A puppy?”

Noctis rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too. Prompto opened the box.

“Oh, holy shit, dude,” Prompto breathed. “Are you serious?”

The camera in his hands was a little heavier than the one Prompto currently had, but it was shinier and much nicer as well. He’d mentioned wanting this exact model only once or twice before. There was even an extra memory card in the box.

“Of course I’m serious,” Noctis said. He sounded slightly smug. Prompto didn’t care.

He threw his arms around Noctis before he could stop himself. Noctis chuckled softly and returned the hug. The air was slightly cool, and every inch of Noctis’ skin that touched Prompto’s was impossible to ignore. Prompto pressed his face into Noctis’ neck and breathed in. His hair was feather soft against Prompto’s face. He hadn’t allowed himself to get this close since their wrestling match months ago. It felt guiltily good.

Noctis’ arms were firm around Prompto’s torso, but Prompto eventually had to pull away.

“You’re the best,” he said honestly. Noctis’ face softened. Prompto thought of the cat.

Noctis held out his hand, something dangling between his fingers. He offered it to Prompto.

It was a wristband. Black. Royal colors. Prompto’s heart slammed against his ribcage as he took it.

“Come on,” Noctis said. “We’ll go to that place downtown you like.” He made for the stairs.

Noctis really was too good to him. Prompto discreetly switched out his wristbands, stealing a moment to admire the way the new one looked.

Noctis caught him staring. “It looks good.”

Prompto’s face flushed. When Noctis’ back was turned, Prompto snapped a photo of him with his new camera.

Noctis took him out to eat and then to the arcade. They ate junk food, and watched an angry man get chased by some geese at the park. Prompto took pictures of the ducklings. He’d spent birthdays with Noctis before, but every one seemed better than the last. The sun had begun to set by the time they finally called it quits.

Gladio was waiting for them when they got back to Noctis’ apartment. The lights were mostly dim when they walked in, just barely bright enough to illuminate the hulking figure sitting in one of the living room chairs.

“Prince Charmless said it was your birthday,” Gladio said. “So I dropped by to say hi.”

He had clearly come to say more than just hello. Gladio had come prepared. A thin package dangled between his fingers. The wrapping was plain, but even Prompto didn’t question who it was for.

Gladio tossed it his way. Prompto fumbled the catch, and Noctis plucked it out of midair. Prompto smiled at him appreciatively. He tore the paper away.

There was a DVD inside, one Prompto had casually mentioned wanting to own months ago, before it had even come out.

“Thanks, man!” Prompto said. “This is so cool!”

Gladio looked satisfied at his reaction.

“You hungry?” he asked. “Ignis asked me to deliver something.”

“Oh,” Prompto said. He loved Ignis’ cooking, but… “We just ate.”

Noctis apparently knew what Ignis had brought because he pointed to another box sitting on the kitchen table. “Not dinner. Dessert. Ignis made you a cake.”

“Seriously?”

Gladio clapped him on the back as Prompto went starry eyed.

Noctis smiled. “Let’s eat.”

It wasn’t a particularly large cake. The icing wasn’t as perfect as some of the display cakes Prompto had seen at the store, but it looked delicious. Tasted delicious too. Ignis had gone through all the effort to make him a cake, but he was too busy to drop by and have any himself.

Prompto forced Noctis to save Ignis a piece in the fridge and then texted Ignis with a message that may have contained twenty exclamation points too many. Nobody could say he wasn’t grateful.

“Do you want to watch that or what?” Gladio asked, gesturing to the movie. His slice of cake was significantly smaller than either of theirs. He claimed not to like sweets very much, but Noctis nudged Prompto and pointed to the way Gladio scraped every ounce of frosting off his place. They grinned at each other.

Noctis popped the movie into the TV. Gladio sat in the middle of the couch, legs spread, taking up the most room. Prompto complained mostly for show, squeezing himself between Gladio and the arm of the couch. Noctis took Gladio’s other side. The lights were dim enough already, so they kept those as they were.

The storyline wasn’t the most amazing one Prompto had ever seen, but the camera work and special effects were top notch. He’d seen the movie in theaters with Noctis when it first came about, but it was almost like seeing it for the first time all over again. He gasped as the magical forest caught on fire. The flames looked pretty good.

“That’s totally unrealistic,” Noctis said as the main character threw a ball of blizzard magic at a daemon. Prompto could count the individual scales on the daemon’s skin. It would have been absolutely frightening in real life, but he could appreciate how much work went into such detail when it was on the screen.

“Hush, you,” Prompto said without taking his eyes off the screen. “You can’t appreciate art.”

Gladio snorted.

When the movie was over, Gladio stretched his arms over the back of the couch and said, “So you’re finally eighteen now, huh?”

Prompto straightened with just a touch of pride. His shoulders hit Gladio’s side. “Yep!”

Gladio smiled lazily. “Would you say this makes you almost nineteen?”

“Wh—“ He suddenly remembered the way he’d claimed to be “almost eighteen” six months ago. He grumbled playfully. “Shut up.”

Gladio chuckled. Noctis frowned, not getting the joke, so Prompto leaned over Gladio and nudged him. Noctis nudged him back. He relaxed.

“It’s getting late,” Noctis said. Prompto glanced at the clock. It was a little late for a school night, but they had stayed up later than that before, and he doubted Gladio was feeling tired. “Did you guys want to spend the night?”

“I’m game,” Gladio said. There was something about his voice that made Prompto look up.

Something in Gladio’s gaze made Prompto’s mouth go dry. He glanced at Noctis, whose eyes dragged over Prompto and Gladio both. Something warm spread in his chest. He was hyper aware of the way Gladio’s chest moved up and down against Prompto’s side as he breathed.

 _Maybe_ , he thought.

He shoved the thought out of his mind.

“Sorry,” he said. “I think I’ll have to bow out of this one. School night and all that.”

He didn’t want to know what would happen if he was wrong. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he was right. There were too many ways this situation could go terribly, and Prompto was unwilling to risk even a second of the life he currently lived.

Noctis frowned. “You can borrow some of my clothes.”

“Good offer,” Prompto said, standing up. “But I’m not sure how many more times I can borrow your uniform before someone starts spreading rumors about us. Don’t you have an image to maintain?”

Noctis looked like he wanted so say something else, but Gladio’s arm slid heavily off the back of the couch and onto his shoulders.

“Noct,” he said warningly. Prompto didn’t know if ‘warning’ was the right word for it, but it was close.

“Seriously,” he said, because he didn’t want Noctis or Gladio to think he was ungrateful. “Thanks for today. Really.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Noctis nodded. Gladio looked at both of them with half-lidded eyes.

“Let us at least walk you home,” Gladio said.

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed, already gathering to his feet. Before he realized it, Prompto was sandwiched between the two. “Come on.”

There was no way he could say no to that.

They walked.

 

 

 

 

“Was it quite all right?” Ignis asked. “I only bake occasionally, and it’s not often I make cakes. I am a much more proficient cook.”

True, but Ignis experimented with those tart things for Noct often enough that Prompto was pretty sure he could do anything if he tried.

He clapped Ignis on the shoulder. “It was great! Seriously, thanks. I made Noct save you a piece.”

Ignis adjusted his glasses. “His Highness informed me.”

 

 

 

 

“….Which is why most of Lucis’ cotton is imported,” Ignis finished.

Noctis flipped his report over like he was inspecting it. Prompto was only half convinced he was really listening. Ignis didn’t look convinced at all, if the unimpressed look on his face was anything to go by. It was a good thing Noct was the one who had to pay attention and not him. Prompto was pretty sure most business stuff would go over his head even if he wasn’t already distracted.

“Go fish,” Prompto said.

Gladio stared at him. “There’s no fishing in solitaire.”

“But we can’t play any more cards!”

“Look harder,” Gladio said. “And if that’s really true, we start over.”

Prompto groaned dramatically. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Noctis hiding a smirk with his hand, and Prompto sent a small smile his way. “We’ve started over, like, three times already.”

“Twice.”

“Why don’t we just play something else?”

“Because there aren’t many two-person card games,” Gladio said with all the patience he could muster. It wasn’t much. “And Ignis can’t play because he’s prepping Noct for the meeting.”

The meeting Gladio and Ignis were going to escort Noctis to as soon as they were finished, yeah. Prompto was just there for moral support and to kill time. 

“You two are quite the distraction, you know,” Ignis said without looking in their direction.

Gladio nudged his foot under the table. Prompto leaned his head in his hand and looked at Ignis’ back. Noctis’ apartment was always warm. It felt warmer with all of them crammed into the living room like this. Prompto liked it.

“Again,” Ignis said.

Noctis rolled his eyes but started repeating the mumbo-jumbo Ignis had recited back at him. Gladio had gotten distracted watching them, so Prompto not-so-discreetly swiped the cards off the table and started building a house with them.

“Careful,” he warned when Gladio’s elbow came a little too close for comfort. “You have to be delicate with these things.”

For some reason, Gladio sighed. “I know.”

Prompto didn’t turn his head, but he could feel Noctis’ eyes on him as Ignis diligently reminded him not to fall asleep in front of the council members.

 

 

 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ignis asked. If Prompto didn’t know any better, he would say Ignis was making fun of him.

He stuck out his tongue. “You think I can’t?”

“I’m sure you’ll try your very best,” Ignis said, which wasn’t a yes.

Noctis’ birthday was coming up, and the least Prompto could do was get him something special. Thinking of something was tough as hell. The guy had _everything_. Prompto had given him a nice photograph the past two years, but he didn’t want to repeat that old trick again, even if it was the one skill Prompto really had. Ignis would probably make Noctis’ cake like always, and Prompto only felt a little guilty asking for help for his own gift.

Ignis observed him. “Raise the bowl slightly, and use faster strokes when whisking.”

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t move any faster unless I was a machine.”

“It’s all in the wrist,” Ignis said. “Like this.”

And then Ignis slipped his arms around Prompto like it was nothing, placing his palm over Prompto’s hand in order to tilt the bowl, his fingers slotting between Prompto’s own. Ignis had a few inches on him, so he pressed his chest to Prompto’s back in order to effortlessly look over Prompto’s shoulder and examine his technique.

 “Hold it properly,” Ignis said, but Prompto wasn’t really listening, too distracted by the feel of Ignis’ body against his. Thankfully Ignis didn’t particularly seem to care. He demonstrated the proper whisking technique or whatever it was while Prompto fought to keep himself from getting too dizzy. Could Ignis feel how clammy his hands were? He desperately hoped not.

“Got it?”

Ignis’ breath ghosted over the shell of Prompto’s ear. Prompto couldn’t keep himself from shivering, hyperaware of how Ignis must have noticed everything about him, from how sweaty Prompto suddenly felt to the way he couldn’t turn to look Ignis in the eye.

 _Finally,_ Prompto thought as Ignis mercifully backed off. He cocked his head at Prompto in question, and Prompto realized he was still waiting on a response.

He squeaked. “Got it!”

Ignis held his gaze a moment longer, looking oddly smug. Prompto would have thought Ignis was standing so close to him on purpose just to torture him if the very thought hadn’t seemed so… un-Ignis.

He bit his tongue as Ignis laid a hand on his neck. Ignis probably thought it was friendly, but the skin on Prompto’s neck suddenly burned under his touch.

“Are you going to start anytime soon?” Ignis asked.

Prompto unfroze. “On it!”

 

 

 

 

He saw Gladio and Noct during a training session once, fresh from the fight. Because he was a nobody, Prompto wasn’t allowed on the Citadel grounds, but these training grounds were something different. They were Amicitia property, not Lucis Caelum. No city guards to keep him out. Prompto didn’t make a habit of dropping by, but he was technically allowed to. He hoped. Nobody had ever stopped him, anyway.

Besides, when the prince himself texted him to meet him after practice, he had an excuse. Noctis had given him blanket permission to come over any time, so Prompto considered that pretty much the same thing as official permission. He slipped inside.

The moment he walked in, it became obvious Gladio and Noct were the only ones training in the center of the room. And training they were. Except…

They were fighting, sure, but there was something else there that made Prompto pause. Something about the way Noctis stared Gladio down, determination and something else in his expression. Something in the way Gladio smirked, all teeth. Neither of them noticed Prompto. It was like the world had faded away for them. They were clearly enjoying themselves. Prompto was the voyeur. They were in synch.

Noctis swung. Gladio sidestepped him and knocked his wooden sword away.

Prompto took a step back. Then another. And another, until he had snuck back outside.

He looked at the last text on his phone. Noctis had told him to meet him after practice, but Prompto had never properly responded. He could always pretend he hadn’t seen it. Plus, he had gotten there too early. It would have been rude to interrupt.

He wandered back home.

 

 

 

 

Nineteen passed way too slowly and much too quickly all at once.

 

 

 

 

They weren’t in high school anymore. Prompto didn’t see Noctis every day like he used to. Noctis was almost always busy with more and more royal duties now that he had graduated. Ignis was almost always at his side, Gladio there nearly just as often now that Noct had to run around town all day long, but it was rare to see all three together at once. Not that Prompto saw them very often at all. And the days Prompto _did_ see him, he felt more and more like he didn’t belong. They were always in each other’s space or staring at one another or laughing at private jokes Prompto hadn’t witnessed the birth of. Ignis’ phone was always buzzing, but he always stopped whenever Noctis looked like he was going to speak or when Gladio tugged at him to take a breather. There was always a stranger on the periphery when Noctis found a moment to spare for Prompto, always some advisor waiting to butt in and remind the prince that he had this appointment or that meeting and don’t forget x, y, and z. Sometimes it was Ignis himself who ushered him away. And wherever Noctis went, Gladio followed. He was the prince’s shadow these days. Inseparable. 

They were wrapped up in one another, and every day it became more and more obvious that Prompto didn’t have a place in their circle anymore. Not that his place had been all that permanent to begin with.

At nineteen, Prompto realized he was going to be left behind.

It hurt.

But in a way, he figured it was always meant to be like this.

 

 

 

 

Noctis looked like he’d been physically punched when Prompto told him as much.

“What?” he breathed, like he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing out of Prompto’s mouth.

Prompto hadn’t said it to be mean. He’d just wanted Noct to know it was _okay._

“I mean, you’ll be king one day,” Prompto said, and Noctis’ face did that thing it did whenever someone brought that up. Prompto winced. “Listen, you have a lot more going on than I do. You don’t have to squeeze me in to your schedule when you’re already jampacked. It’s okay.”

“I _want_ you in my schedule.”

That may have been true. But there were more important things than Prompto that deserved to be on that list.

He lightly tapped Noctis’ shoulder with his fist. “I know, man. But you look beat. Go get some rest, and we’ll catch up next time, okay?”

Noctis’ phone buzzed the way it so often did these days, and Prompto took Noctis’ conflicted pause between the phone, Prompto, and the bed as his chance to duck out. He made sure to wave over his shoulder in goodbye as he went. No use being rude about it, even if every step made Prompto’s heart feel just a bit more like lead. He should have known this would have happened eventually. He had just been stupid all these years to think otherwise.

 

 

 

 

Ignis came around at ass o’clock the next morning.

Granted, Prompto had already been long since awake by then, but that didn’t make it any less early. The nights were still cool, though not freezing, and he wasn’t looking forward to venturing out before the day warmed up, however incrementally that may be.

He had already thrown on his jogging clothes, but Prompto’s hair was still wet and sticking to his forehead when he answered the door.

“Uh,” he said as he craned his neck back to look Ignis in the eye. “Good morning?”

Prompto’s voice was still thick with sleep, despite the shower. Ignis looked like he’d been up for hours.

“May I come in?” Ignis asked. Like he wasn’t knocking on Prompto’s door earlier than anyone had any right to visit. It was early enough that there was a slim possibility Prompto’s parents were still home. They would be sleeping, of course. But they might have been home.

Prompto spared a brief glance at the ceiling before stepping aside. “Sure?”

Ignis carefully removed his shoes by the door, placing them neatly on the welcome mat. Prompto was suddenly struck with the fact Ignis had never seen his house before. He hoped the kitchen was clean. He couldn’t remember if he had done his chores yet.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts just in time to catch Ignis looking him up and down. He didn’t know why Ignis was here, but he looked away, embarrassed. Prompto wished he were wearing nicer clothes.

“Were you heading out?” Ignis asked.

Prompto nearly shook his head, but he figured Ignis would see through the lie. “I was gonna go out on a run, but I can stay here if you want?”

“No,” Ignis said. “I’m the one who interrupted you. Don’t let me get in the way of your routine. Will you be free after?”

Prompto mentally reviewed his schedule. He could cut down on his jogging time just this once. “Yeah, I’m free for like an hour or so? If you need me to run any errands or something, I can probably do that after I get off work.”

“Work,” Ignis repeated.

“Yeah,” Prompto said. “I’m an assistant for a photographer downtown now. Didn’t Noct tell you?”

“He did not.”

Prompto _did_ have a job. It was mostly running menial errands; he was rarely ever allowed to do his own photography, and the pay was terrible. But it was a job. He was planning on moving out soon with the money he made from it, even if it was to one of the shitter parts of the city. He didn’t want to burden his parents any longer than he had to.

The option of university had floated around briefly, but that had never been a real option. It was costly, and Prompto wasn’t sure he had the kind of brains or ambition to ensure his acceptance, nonetheless continual success at a school like that, even if he could score enough scholarships.

Ignis looked caught off-guard. Like he hadn’t thought about the fact Prompto might have things he needed to do during the day. Of course, he couldn’t be expected to consider such things when Ignis’ job was so much more important than anything Prompto would ever do. Prompto didn’t blame him. He figured Ignis was having an off day.

“If it’s anything big, I can do it this evening,” he said. “Sorry.”

“No need,” Ignis said. He looked out of place in Prompto’s washed out living room. “It’s nothing of importance.”

“Really? Then what is it?”

“Nothing in particular. It had just occurred to me that we had not seen each other in some time.”

Ignis said it casually, _deliberately_ casual, and suddenly Prompto understood. He couldn’t help the way his face fell, and he knew Ignis must have noticed immediately.

“Hey,” Prompto said, because things were finally starting to click. “If you’re here because Noct told you I was lonely or something, you don’t—“

“I assure you I am here of my own volition,” Ignis said firmly.

Prompto shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t help the way he hugged himself, even if he did feel childish. “Really? Because I feel like you’d have better things to do than hang out with me all day. Don’t you have, like, meetings to schedule and stuff?”

“I had my schedule cleared for the day,” Ignis said. Like that was a thing people just _did_. Prompto didn’t want to think about the ten thousand things Ignis probably had to rearrange just because Noct said Prompto was sad or something. The guilt inside him compounded.

“You can, you know, _un_ -clear it. I don’t need a babysitter.”

This was probably the first time in Prompto’s life that he had stood up to Ignis in any way, but this was also the first time he felt like he really had something to stand up for. He felt dumb. He couldn’t believe Noct would send Ignis over to look after him, like—

“I’m not here to babysit, and I’m not here because His Highness sent me,” Ignis said.

“Then why?”

Ignis leaned forward. Prompto forgot all about his embarrassment and his bare walls and the way his parents might have been upstairs because suddenly Ignis’ lips were on his, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Ignis smelled like spice. His hand was gloved, but it still felt like fire on his cheek.

Prompto was pretty sure he was gaping as Ignis pulled back.

“Prompto,” Ignis said. Prompto couldn’t remember a time when his name had sounded like that from Ignis’ mouth. “I would like to pick you up from work this evening and catch up. Is that amenable to you?”

“Oh.” It took a moment for Prompto’s tongue to catch up with his brain. “Yes. Yes? Yes.”

Ignis smiled softly. Prompto’s heart exploded.

“Now,” Ignis said. “When do you get off work?”

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t often Gladio and Ignis were in the same place without Noctis, and it didn’t feel any less odd when all their attention was on Prompto instead.

To be honest, Prompto had assumed this was going to be a date between just him and Ignis. He’d thought that was what had been implied anyway. There had been the kiss—and boy, did just thinking about that still make Prompto blush—and then Ignis’, “What time do you get off work?” He had just assumed it was an exclusive thing.

Though, to be frank, Prompto wasn’t sure he exactly minded it being three of them instead of just two. It had been a while since he’d seen Gladio as well. And as much as Prompto probably would have had an easier life if he had any control of his feelings whatsoever, he was in love with both of them, even if Ignis was the one who had kissed him. That was already more than he could have ever dreamed of happening. If their first date was hanging out with two of the three men Prompto was in love with, even if he seemingly only had a chance at one, he didn’t mind.

“I can see the gears turning in your head,” Gladio said. “Knock it off.”

He flicked Prompto’s ear. Prompto batted him away.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

Ignis cocked his head. “What do you have an interest in?”

It was starting to feel a little too much like they were just indulging him again. But that hadn’t gone so well when Prompto accused Ignis that morning, so he turned his attention to Gladio instead. “Aren’t you supposed to be hanging around Noct today?”

As though there were something else Gladio did on other days. Gladio shrugged good-naturedly.

“Noct’s catching up on work today,” he said. “No need for me outside his door when he’s surrounded by security around the clock.”

True enough. Prompto was willing to let it slide for now. The sun was low in the sky, it had been a long day, and he was looking forward to some relaxation. Plus, it had been difficult to concentrate when he’d had the memory of Ignis’ lips on his replaying all day. Even now he felt himself start to lose focus, and he shook himself back into reality.

“Was there something you had in mind?” Ignis asked again.

Gladio said, “I’m up for anything.”

Before Prompto could open his mouth, his stomach answered for him. The growl was loud enough to be heard clearly by everyone in a five foot radius, despite the noise of the street surrounding them.

Prompto scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’m kind of hungry?”

“Perhaps some food is in order then,” Ignis said. He was smiling. “I know a place not too far from here.”

“We can bring something back for Noct too,” Gladio added, knocking Ignis’ shoulder with his own. The gesture was casual and full of familiarity. “Then you won’t have to cook for Prince Bottomless Pit tonight.”

“I don’t mind it,” Ignis said.

Prompto nodded. “Yeah, but you deserve a break every now and then too.”

Ignis didn’t comment on that. He started down the street, a place clearly in mind. “Shall we go, then?”

“Hell yeah,” Gladio said. “I’m starving.”

Prompto had been hoping for a dinner date. This wasn’t how he had initially pictured it going, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

 

 

 

 

The restaurant was more than a few blocks away, and Prompto was practically starving by the time they got there. Gladio looked none the worse for wear, and Ignis looked impeccable as usual, but Prompto had been on his feet all day and he was, admittedly, tired. He didn’t bring that up, though. He hadn’t seen either of them in forever, and he didn’t want to start the evening off with complaints.

Ignis had kissed _him_ that morning, but Prompto ended up watching Ignis and Gladio interact as they walked more than Prompto spoke up himself. They were at ease with each other, and even when Ignis didn’t overly express himself when asked a question, Gladio seemed to understand anyway. They had the same stride. Prompto was a slightly envious.

“You okay?” Gladio asked, glancing over at Prompto when they were about halfway there. “I don’t remember you being this quiet.”

“I’m good!” Prompto said. Now Ignis was looking at him too, and he felt guilty. “I’m just a little sleepy, but I’m still here. I’m good.”

“Long day?” Ignis asked.

Long year. “Yeah.”

It ended up being a _fancy_ restaurant, because Ignis was nothing if not particular. Prompto was only halfway sure he could pronounce the name. He didn’t try.

Ignis looked impeccable in his suit, fitting right in to the decor. Gladio was wearing a tank top, which was pretty casual for a place as nice as this, but with the way he looked in it, Prompto doubted anyone would turn him away. Prompto, on the other hand…

He had just begun to ask if they thought this was a good idea when Ignis said, “I’ll be just a moment,” and slipped inside the restaurant.

“We’re ordering to go,” Gladio explained when he saw the confused look on Prompto’s face.

“Oh,” Prompto said, relaxing. He didn’t think he’d even be allowed inside in the best clothes he own, not even considering the normal jeans and t-shirt he was wearing now. Just standing this close to the entrance already felt risky. “I didn’t tell Ignis my order though?”

“You like spicy food, right? This place has the best curry in town. Ignis’ll get that.”

“How much— “

“It’s under Noct’s name.”

Normally Prompto felt guilty when Noctis tried to pay for him, but if Ignis and Gladio were doing it too, he didn’t feel so bad. Ignis was probably in charge of Noctis’ finances, right? It was probably fine.

The sun had nearly sunk entirely out of view, and the lamps of Insomnia had come to life. Overhead, the sky had turned violet. It was a warm night.

“How’d work go?” Gladio asked. He always radiated heat no matter the temperature. Prompto could feel it even from where he was standing.

He shrugged. “Eh, same old, same old.”

He hadn’t been working there that long, but things had fallen enough into a routine that he was comfortable. Gladio watched him.

“Tell me about it,” Gladio said.

There wasn’t much to tell, but Prompto did as he was asked anyway. He had just begun describing how he wasn’t allowed to touch any of the really nice equipment at the studio when Ignis came back out with a paper bag filled with food. It was a big bag.

Prompto sniffed the air. “That smells amazing!”

Gladio huffed. “You’re like a dog.”

“So what? It smells great!”

“Tastes good too,” Gladio said. He took the takeout bag from Ignis and held it teasingly up and away as though Prompto were going to make a dive for it. Prompto rolled his eyes, laughing.

“And it’s nutritious,” Ignis said. He began walking down the street. “But no eating until we properly sit down. Follow me. I parked a few streets down from here.”

“Where are we going?” Prompto asked, following along. He was glad to hear they’d be driving. Taking a break from walking was great.

“To deliver the prince’s food,” Gladio said. He lowered the bag to a reasonable height and walked ahead, easily catching up to Ignis.

Prompto paused, and in his hesitation, he fell behind. “At the Citadel?”

Noctis was sleeping there more often than not these days, presumably in the royal chambers he’d left behind as a teen. His city apartment had been empty the few times Prompto had stopped by. Prompto had eventually gotten the hint.

Ignis nodded. “Yes.”

“Uh,” Prompto said, feeling awkward. “I’m not usually allowed in there.” He shrugged and averted his eyes. “No clearance, I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gladio said confidently. “They’re making an exception this time.”

Somehow Prompto still wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”

Even as he asked, he rushed a few steps ahead to catch up to them, not wanting to be left behind. The back of Ignis’ hand brushed his own as he fell in step. Prompto swore it was deliberate. A pleasant feeling spread throughout his chest. Ignis caught his eye. On the other side of Ignis, Gladio watched them both. Prompto couldn’t decipher his expression, but he didn’t think it was bad.

“It’s all taken care of,” Ignis assured him.

Prompto could do nothing else but trust them.

 

 

 

 

“Honey, I’m home!” Prompto called out, swinging open the door to Noctis’ chambers.

He’d never been in the Citadel before, and everything was so shiny he was a little afraid to touch any of it. Normally he would have been too much of a coward to even walk into Noctis’ rooms like this—it had taken months before he finally stopped knocking on the door to Noctis’ apartment and just walk in like Noctis asked—but the car ride with Gladio and Ignis had really lifted his spirits.

He lifted up the takeout bag. “And I brought food!”

Noctis’ head jerked up, a smile spread across his face. “Hey! You’re here.”

Noctis was in an oddly good mood, Prompto thought. He figured it was because of the takeout. Takeout always made him pretty happy too.

“ _We_ brought food,” Gladio corrected. He plucked the bag from Prompto’s hands and wandered over toward the long table Noctis was seated at, ignoring Prompto’s joking protest.

“My heroes,” Noctis said.

Prompto stepped further in, taking the chance to observe the room as Gladio began laying food containers on the table. He was dimly aware of Ignis closing the door behind him.

They weren’t in Noctis’ bedroom. Or, they might have been. Ignis had said it was “the prince’s chambers,” and Prompto had just _assumed_ that meant bedroom. He wasn’t sure where the door off to his right led. Currently he was standing in what looked like to be some kind of conference room. The floor was wooden, and there was a long table with about ten chairs on either side of it in the center of the room. Noctis sat at the head of the table on the far side of the room, farthest from the door.

“Hey,” Noctis said, pushing the papers in front of him away as Ignis walked up. A pen rolled onto the floor, but he ignored it. “How was your day?”

“Productive,” Ignis said. “Yours?”

Ignis leaned down and kissed Noctis on the cheek.

Prompto froze. Whatever else Noctis said was suddenly swallowed by the rush of blood in his hears.

“Wait,” he said. “Hold up.”

Ignis had just kissed Noct on the cheek. And Noctis had leaned up into it, like he’d expected it. Like it was a thing they did every day.

And yeah, he’d _thought_ Ignis and Noctis might have had a thing going on. It was a topic Prompto had always avoided through a combination of heartbreak and nerves. (Granted, he’d thought Ignis and Gladio might have had a thing, and sometimes _Noct_ and Gladio, and—Honestly, anyone could have had a thing for anyone else that wasn’t Prompto.) But Ignis had also kissed _him_ , and Prompto had trusted—

“Prom,” Noctis said. _“Relax.”_

“What? No.” Should he say something? It was a little too late to hide it at this point. But he wasn’t sure _what_ to say. “I don’t—What about—“

“Hey,” Gladio said, suddenly appearing behind him. He placed a hand on Prompto’s lower back. Prompto nearly relaxed into his touch before he reminded himself he couldn’t. “Slow down for second.”

Ignis was looking at him patiently, like he had an explanation already at the ready. Noctis looked nonplussed, like he was already in the know. And Prompto didn’t have to look to know Gladio was just as confident as ever.

Prompto got the distinct feeling there was a lot more going on here than he knew. 

 

 

 

 

As it turned out, there was.

“You guys have been dating each other this whole time?” Prompto said incredulously. “And you didn’t even _say_ anything?”

Gods, he’d been more out of the loop than he’d thought. He felt so _stupid_ for not noticing before. He was replaying every moment over the past few years, trying to figure out what hints he should have picked up and what he’d missed. He’d never been the best at reading people, but this was ridiculous.

His lips tingled, and all he could think was _Ignis kissed me, Ignis kissed me, Ignis kissed me._ Nobody had said anything about that morning yet. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to bring it up or not.  

“Not this _whole_ time,” Noctis corrected. “Just somewhat recently.”

Prompto stared at him from where he’d been ushered into a seat. Noctis was still sitting at the head of the table, and Prompto faced him with his chair cocked at an angle. Ignis and Gladio were hovering between them silently, like two lawyers making sure a deal went right. Noctis had been doing most of the talking so far. It was making Prompto nervous.

“Okay,” Prompto said. “So you’re, like, what?”

Telling Prompto to get lost? He thought he’d told Noctis not to bother so much anymore already. What was this? He wasn’t sure what anything meant anymore.

Noctis opened his mouth to drive the nail further into the coffin, but Ignis got there first.

“This morning,” Ignis said, brushing a lock of hair behind Prompto’s ear. “I kissed you, and you did not reject me. Why?”

Prompto’s eyes flickered to Gladio and Noctis, but their faces gave nothing away. He swallowed. He said, slowly, “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“I want you to say it,” Ignis replied, straight-faced.

There was no way Prompto was getting out of this with his dignity unscathed. He flushed.

“Because I really like you, okay?” he said quickly.

He couldn’t imagine how he must have looked—anxious, mortified, lips pressed together in an effort not to blurt anything more he’d regret. Some of his hair had fallen into his eyes. He couldn’t work up the nerve to brush it away. He felt glued to his chair. 

Gladio circled around to the other side of him. He placed his hand on the back of Prompto’s chair and leaned in close.

“And how do you feel about _me_?” he asked, his mouth _incredibly_ close to Prompto’s ear. Prompto shivered.

“Uh.” He glanced away, but nobody came to his rescue. There was nothing else he could do but be honest. “I—I really like you.”

Prompto’s voice cracked. Nobody mentioned it, but Gladio did raise an eyebrow at him. Prompto looked away, his fingers curling in his lap. This was everything he’d spent the last four years hiding, and it was all falling apart the moment they plucked at his strings.

“What about me?” Noctis asked, leaning forward in his seat, resting his cheek in his palm. His face held a princely smugness Prompto had only seen when Noctis had been on the verge of winning something. Usually a game.  

He couldn’t take much more of this. “Are you seriously going to make me repeat myself again?”

Noctis made a face that resembled a pout. Prompto cracked.

“I like all of you, okay?” he finally admitted, hiding his face in his hands. There weren’t a lot of reasons they would make him come clean like this, but Prompto was pretty sure they all ended with his eternal embarrassment. He didn’t have it in him to be hopeful, to believe this was going anywhere good. He was pretty sure he was going to die by the time this was all over. “I really, really like you guys a lot, so can I just _go_ already? Can I leave?”

Gods. He’d thought he was going to have a good time tonight. And now here were the three people he was closest to in the world, all gathered together to make fun of him.

Prompto’s house was empty, but at least there was nobody there to see him like this. He wanted to go _home_.

“Prompto— “

“Wait, Prom, no— “

“Hey— “

They all spoke at once, but it was Gladio who pulled his hand away from his face and kissed the back of his knuckles. Prompto gasped.

He blinked the moisture from his eyes to find Noctis had all but knocked his chair away in his haste to stand up, leaning across the corner of the table that separated them. He grabbed Prompto’s other wrist, gently pulling his hand away until Prompto uncovered his face. His fingers were wrapped loosely around Prompto’s wrist, but Prompto had never felt more anchored in his life.

“Hey,” Noctis said softly. He looked rightly chastened. “I shouldn’t have teased you. I’m sorry.”

Prompto opened his mouth to respond, but Gladio was still holding his left hand and had begun rubbing circles into Prompto’s skin with his thumb. His mouth had gone dry.

Ignis ducked between the arm Noctis was holding and the back of Prompto’s chair, placing a dry kiss on the side of Prompto’s forehead.

“My apologies,” he said into Prompto’s hair.

Gladio on one side, Ignis on the other. Noctis straight ahead of him. Prompto was surrounded on all fronts, but suddenly it felt a little less like a game of life and death and more like a comfort.

“We just wanted you to _say_ it,” Noctis said. “You get… You get so wrapped up in your head when you worry. I thought it would be easier if we got you to say it out loud first. I was wrong.”

Prompto…

…had no idea where this was going.

“Yesterday, you said it was okay that I didn’t have as much time for you anymore,” Noctis said.

“Yeah,” Prompto said. “It’s _fine_.”

He was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t Noctis to feel guilty over the inevitable.

“It’s _not_ fine,” Noctis insisted. The way he was leaning over the table must have been awkward on his spine, but if he felt any discomfort, he didn’t let it show.

Was it his imagination, or had Gladio’s grip on his hand grown slightly tighter? Prompto wasn’t sure. Ignis laid a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. Even with the glove, his touch was a comfort.

Noctis was looking at him with pleading eyes, and Prompto remembered that night they wrestled, the night he thought Noctis almost kissed him. Had that really almost happened? If he had leaned in instead of away, would he have been dating Noctis instead? Or would they have drifted apart anyway because of their birthrights? He wasn’t sure. He thought he probably would have ached for Gladio and Ignis either way.

“I don’t _want_ you to drift away,” Noctis said. “I want you here. _We_ want you here. With us.”

“ _We_?” Prompto croaked.

“Why do you think we’re doing this?” Gladio asked, voice teasing. He pressed his lips to the back of Prompto’s hand again. Prompto couldn’t look at him. It would have been too much.

 _To torture me_ seemed like the most obvious answer. But Prompto didn’t think that was true anymore. Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio cared about him. They were all friends. They wouldn’t do this for no reason. It was easy to forget how friendship worked sometimes. That people cared about him just as much.

“I… I don’t…”

“You like all of us,” Noctis said, a little out of patience. “Right?”

That he could answer, even if it was still embarrassing to repeat. “Yeah.”

“And we like you,” Noctis said. “Fact.”

That didn’t sound right at all. But it seemed to match up with the whirlwind that had been the last five minutes.

“Seriously?” Prompto couldn’t help but ask.

Ignis chucked.

“Most ardently,” he said. There was a smile in his voice.

Prompto’s head spun. If things had felt unreal before, now it felt completely like a dream.

He chewed on the inside of his mouth. “Are you sure?”

“Prompto.”

“Just checking!”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Prom, do you want to be with us or not?”

Prompto was pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment. It felt like the conversation had been moving in this direction for a while, but the question still came as a surprise.

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted. “But how would that even work? You guys are really busy, and I’m not allowed in half the places you go.”

That didn’t even begin to cover the thousand responsibilities the three of them—Ignis and Noctis especially—had to juggle on a daily basis. Prompto didn’t want to add himself to that list of burdens, even if this whole scenario was a dream come true.

“We’ll work out the logistics in a moment,” Ignis said. “First things first.”

Prompto looked at the ceiling. “Um.”

“It’s yes or no,” Gladio prompted.

Prompto jumped slightly at the deep rumble of his voice. There was no way it could be as easy as that. But.

It felt so nice, squeezed between the three of him like this. It was a new feeling to have all eyes on him. Strange. But he thought he could grow used to it.

“Yes. Definitely.”

Noctis had a smile that could light up the room. Prompto’s eyes almost strained looking at him. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Prompto echoed.

He wasn’t looking at them, but he could feel Ignis and Gladio grow smug. He could practically picture the way Gladio was rolling his eyes. It was doubtful Ignis was visibility doing the same, though Prompto was sure he was rolling his eyes internally.

“We’ll talk about logistics in a minute,” Noctis said.

“And before that?” Prompto asked.

Before that, Noctis kissed him.

It was everything Prompto had imagined it would be and more.

“All right, I’m standing up straight now,” Noctis announced, straightening up. He grimaced and rubbed at his back. “My spine is killing me.”

“It’s because you don’t stretch enough,” Gladio said immediately.

For some reason, that made Prompto laugh.

 

 

 

 

At nineteen, Prompto found that he didn’t have to hide every romantic feeling he’d ever had in order to get a happy ending. He learned that communication could be difficult, but if you cared about someone and you tried really hard, things worked out.

At nineteen, he was very happy.

 

 

 

 

(At twenty, Prompto left Insomnia behind for a wedding that would never happen. His despair at their torn-apart foursome was quickly replaced with the despair of a ruined country and collapsed government. At the very least, they still had each other.

At twenty, Prompto helped save the world.)

 

 

 

 

(He didn’t make it to twenty-one.)

**Author's Note:**

> I promise the next fic in this series will be real story progression! I just felt odd when I started writing the next fic and felt I needed to establish how they all got together in the first place. So tl;dr, they were dating for at least a year before they left Insomnia for Altissia. And the rest is history. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hit me up on my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/) I love talking to people and reviews!


End file.
